


The Second Best Thing

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Psych
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2816468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gus wakes up one afternoon to find himself wrapped up tight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second Best Thing

            Gus is having the weirdest dream.  He’s going around and around and around in a dryer.  He knows it’s a dream because he’s not at all nauseated, and spinning in a dryer would most certainly make him nauseated.

            When he wakes up, he realizes that he’s wrapped almost painfully tightly in their comforter.  He tries to sigh deeply, but he can’t quite draw in enough breath to do so.

            “Shawn!” Gus wheezes out.  Because he knows that Shawn has to be behind this.  Or else a very strange kidnapper, which is always a possibility.

            “Hey, buddy,” Shawn says, popping into view. 

            “Why am I wrapped up in our comforter?” he demands.

            “I thought it’d be fun to make a burrito, but we don’t have burrito supplies and the store is so far away,” Shawn says. 

            Gus wriggles around on the bed, trying to work himself out of the cocoon Shawn had wrapped him in.  In true Shawn fashion, he had done it irritatingly well and Gus can’t wiggle out of it.  “You need a hobby,” Gus finally says, giving up (for now).

            “I did the next best thing,” Shawn ignores him.  He’s leaning over Gus and Gus has to steel himself against the annoyingly self-satisfied grin on Shawn’s face.  It’s the kind that Gus usually elbows Shawn in the side over, at least if somebody is crying in the background.

            “You made a taco?” Gus guesses.

            Shawn makes an offended noise and disappears out of Gus’ sight.  Before Gus can yell at him to get his scrawny butt back over here and let him go, there’s a very Shawn sounding _kawhumph_ in the mattress next to him.  While Gus can’t get out of their comforter, he can roll himself around enough that he’s facing Shawn.

            “Are you telling me that I’m dating someone who thinks that the second best thing to a burrito is a taco?” Shawn asks.  “Because this is brand new and very startling information.”

            “Shawn, that is not the point,” Gus exclaims.  “Get me out of here.”

            “No, no, Gus, this is _really_ important.  Do you think that the second best thing to a burrito is a taco?”

            “Yes, I think tacos are the second best thing to a burrito,” Gus says, mostly because he hopes that Shawn will let him go sooner if he doesn’t argue. 

            “Oh Gus.  The second best thing to a burrito is a Gus-rito,” Shawn says, patting his shoulder. 

            “Excuse me?”  Gus wriggles in indignation.  “Are you saying that I’m second to a burrito?”

            “Just you as a burrito,” Shawn says.  He stretches out against Gus and his toes brush against his ankles.  “Regular you has a level all his own.”

            “Shawn, you can’t have a burrito with only one ingredient,” Gus protests.  “It totally defies the point of having a burrito.”

            Shawn looks like he’s about to protest, but then he pauses.  Before Gus can think, Shawn has stood up and unfurled the comforter.  “You’re right, my little Gus-rito,” Shawn says.

            Gus tries to sit up and escape, but Shawn pushes him down and straddles him.  He grabs one edge of the comforter and rolls them around.  Suddenly, Gus finds himself wrapped right back up again, but this time with Shawn stacked on top of him, his hands pinned by Shawn’s body.

            “You’re a genius sometimes, Gus,” he says, smile spreading across his face.  “This is way better.”

            “I can’t _breathe_ , Shawn,” Gus complains. 

            Shawn shifts around so his head is resting on Gus’ chest.  “Sounds like you’re breathing alright to me.”

            “You’re not a medical professional,” Gus says. 

            “But I am very, very invested in your breathing,” Shawn says.  “Nobody else is going to let me steal their credit cards like you do.”

            Gus tries to be mad at Shawn, but instead only manages to work his hands out from where Shawn has them pinned so he can rest them on his boyfriend’s hips.  Weird how that works.

            “I don’t _let_ you steal my credit cards.  You just take them,” Gus says with a put upon sigh.  “You’re terrible.”

            “That’s why you love me,” Shawn says smugly.

            “Don’t remind me.” 

            Shawn pokes him in the stomach.  “I love you, too.”

            “You know that’s right.”


End file.
